


I can do anything, crazy, and know

by wanderlustlover



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Imagine your OTP, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 12:21:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/761258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderlustlover/pseuds/wanderlustlover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Steve definitely didn't remember that. He would have actually liked to remember that. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. it's like a private joke

**Author's Note:**

> **Imagine Your OTP:**   
>  _Imagine person a of your otp getting drunk, but not much, and going to person b. Person B decides to hang out with the drunk person A. They, already in a relationship, have sex. In the morning, Person B notices while they were sleeping, Person A wrote “____ was here” with an arrow pointing to their genitals._
> 
>  
> 
> Except I had to go for really drunk to make myself believe it could happen. 
> 
> This part is the tiniest of prologue set-ups for the ficlet itself.

Morning is fuzzy, and tastes like he spent the night licking a carpet, even once he's gotten in a hard swim and a short, hot shower. It sticks to the back of his teeth like molding, in a way he can't rub his tongue against to get rid of. So that he's nursing coffee, cringing slightly from the too wide windows in the bedroom even, reading because he can't remember much and he feels half strung out just from the last two hours. 

He remembers agreeing to the night out and the meal with his two BUD/s buddies he'd run into at the two week annual reserves training on Pearl, after completing fourteen days of endless drills of parachuting, scuba diving, shooting, live exercises, the works. Remembers most of dinner. Even remembers Danny's call during it, inviting him to come, and Danny shooing him off to go play with 'his _soldier_ buddies' all prickly taunting and encouragement. 

It gets fuzzy somewhere around the third hour and double shots for any fool getting too old to remember the details about any story anyone started about _back in Coronado_. He thinks he might have gotten up on a chair at some point. Or pulled someone off one? That part isn't clear. There was a chair. At some point. He doesn't really remember getting home, but his truck isn't here, so it was probably a cab. There are hazy memories of being home. 

Crawling into bed, pretty positive gravity had given up existing, and the world stopping, like there was a scope on it, when he spotted Danny from the doorway. Darkness and shadows. The disorienting burn of being nearly hit in the head when Danny woke up in the middle of a sloppy blow job. His annoyance at being woken up from his sleep put up about as much resistance as his shorts, when Steve slid up level with him. No matter how annoyed he'd sounded, how much his voice was drown though gallons of water, things Steve couldn't remember clear enough. 

Falling into blackness and sleep, suddenly and completely, between heavy breaths and sticky sheets, not caring about anything in the world but his hands never leaving Danny's ass. Like it was gold. Or a life raft. Something that had made sense then, before it all went dark.


	2. just meant for us to know

The loud gasp is actually what gets Steve's attention, followed by the clatter of several things falling in the bathroom. It's what sends Steve up fast from the bed he'd reclaimed toward the hall. Even when the world spins for his trouble. "You okay, Dan--" 

"What is THIS?" Danny was already headed back form the bathroom, small and solid and not but a little scary looking, as he was gesturing with a sharp hand toward the lower part of his body. Or. Or not. Maybe not, exactly, at his body specifically, at all. 

Steve was having a hard time holding still. The railing and the hallway were shimmying a little, and he'd had to catch a hand on the wall to stop himself from charging into Danny, but it was impossible by far to miss what Danny meant. Across his skin, right below the top of his groin there were words written in two lines, very clearly and precisely:

**Property of  
LCDR Steven J. McGarrett **

Followed by three arrows. All pointing into the thatch of dark gold-brown curls surrounding his cock from each area of the words. Steve definitely didn't remember that. He would have actually liked to remember that.

When his mouth was going goofy, pulling on the muscles in his cheek. The only words that fall out being, "Well, that explains why there was a permanent marker in my shoe this morning." 

"It's permanent? You - How did - " Danny sputtered. "Why are you smiling? Neanderthal. Other people in the world use their words. What is this? You go around tagging people as your possessions while they're peacefully asleep now, too?" 

"Hey, those are words." Steve couldn't stop the smile now that it started. Couldn't stop looking at his name and rank, emblazoned on Danny's skin, like an ownership tag. "It could be a lot wors-" 

"Excuse me? Who said you could talk? You've already said enough," Danny tiraded on, gesturing to the thick black letters contrasting on the very pale skin under his tan line. 

They stood out like there was light shining on them, and Steve would have been lying if he wasn't already to wanting to touch them. Which might have showed when he was letting go of the wall and crowding Danny toward one instead. "What? Are you saying it's not true?" 

"That is not the point, _Steven_." Danny battled onward, even when his hands only batted at Steve's with the force to smack against Steve's wrists but not stop them from ending up on his skin. "You. You are _not_ smooth. This is not _cute_."

Steve really should have been listening but he wasn't. 

He only gave Danny an even brighter, broader smile before he was dropping to his knee. Not even pausing to look at the words themselves, or the sick swing of his vision, before his mouth was ghosting over them. Tasting whether it changed the flavor of Danny's skin. Following across all of his name on a fast, warm swipe.

"You're a menace," Danny puffed out, sharp with annoyance but thinner, and none of it enough to displace the shiver that shook through him when his shoulder met the wall. 

"You love it," Steve smirked, mouth raising from drifting along those words. Pink lips, and white skin, and his name upside down and black as night, claiming Danny like every other thing he did. Bold, brash, and without asking. Just storming in and taking it. Taking all of him. 

"Shut. Up." Still sharp, but winded more than direct. Even when Danny was trying to manage looking down at him all annoyed. Even with his pupils dilating already, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip, eye contact shifting between his own body and Steve's face. "Didn't we already cover that you're not allowed to use words anymore?" 

"Yes, sir," was snarked right back. Before Steve found something else to put in his mouth, and the words drifting down from the hallway overlooking the living room certainly weren't his.


End file.
